


it's a love story, baby, just say yes

by nonbinarynino



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American College/University, Anxiety Attacks, Background Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant - Freeform, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Harry Potter References, Shakespeare, Social Anxiety, Study Date, lbscexchange2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarynino/pseuds/nonbinarynino
Summary: If Marinette is willing to talk to him like that after one mistake, then he doesn’t like her, either. If she can hold onto a grudge for so long, then so can he!(Or, the one where Luka calls his classmate Marinette 'obnoxious'one timeand no one ever lets him forget about it.)
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89
Collections: 2021 Exchange





	it's a love story, baby, just say yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MishaGO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MishaGO/gifts).



> This was written for the LBSC 2021 Valentine's Day Fic Exchange! I wrote this for my friend MishaGO!!!!!  
> The prompts that I used were: "Rivals to lovers + everyone knows trope - More like a "I hate you and you annoy me" to lovers dynamic + everyone knows they like each other except for them" + "Luka: How have I never seen Marinette before? / X: She's pretty short, very easy to miss". I hope this does justice to what you envisioned :O  
> I have no idea how the French university system works, so they're American in this! In case anyone is confused by the mention of a 21+ drinking age and other themes throughout the fic.

There’s no way around it. Luka just isn’t having a good day today.

First, it was that he spilled his coffee on the way out the door and didn’t have enough time to remake it _or_ clean it up. Then, his bike broke down on the way to class, so he’d had to walk a mile and ended up twenty minutes late. Then, it was the fact that his conceptual physics professor had a pop quiz for the _first day,_ claiming it to be based on summer work that Luka hadn’t realized existed. He’d only gotten to the bottom of the first page by the time he’d had to hand it in.

He needs to go home and play his guitar until he calms down. Or take a nap. Or play his guitar and _then_ take a nap. Whatever it is, he certainly does not want to go to another class. Especially _Performing Shakespeare._ Stupid GE requirements. He has _zero_ interest in old literature. He’d procrastinated registering for his General Ed class as long as he could, not wanting to be in a class with a bunch of freshmen anyway, and then by the time he’d finally gotten around to it, Shakespeare was the only one that was left.

Why are people even still learning about Shakespeare, anyway? He’s just another old, dead white guy. If what Luka remembers from high school is still accurate, almost all of his plays were misogynistic or racist! There must be better playwrights to study than freaking _Shakespeare._

Usually, he’s pretty good about being open-minded about stuff like this. Maybe it’s the coffee that’s staining the carpet of his apartment right now, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s already failing one class, but Luka just can’t force himself to be optimistic. Hopefully Professor Bustier will spend the whole class period talking about the syllabus, so he can zone out in the back of class and have some time to recuperate and recharge. It wouldn’t be as perfect as a nap and some music therapy, but it would help him survive the seventy-five minutes. Best case scenario, he leaves the class with less dread than he had when he walked in.

He gets into the classroom with five minutes to spare and immediately beelines for the back row. Maybe when class meets again on Wednesday, he can attempt to be more interactive. But today is just not that day. The seats fill up gradually over the next few minutes, with the last empty one being right next to him. Great. Maybe that means that no one will bother him.

Of course, because nothing _ever_ goes Luka’s way, the moment before it hits 2:00, a girl rushes through the classroom door with such vigor that it draws his eye. She looks flushed, as though she’d just run the whole way here, and spends a few moments just lingering in the doorway, catching her breath. _Well, at least I’m not having the day that she’s having._ It does mean that she will have to sit next to him since it is the only seat available, but oh well. There are worse fates.

“Did I miss anything important?” she asks once she gets settled into the seat next to him. So many people are looking at her, with varying degrees of subtlety, and it makes Luka feel uncomfortably perceived as well.

“No, the professor hasn’t even said a word,” he says. After a few seconds, the lingering eyes of their classmates drift back to whatever it is they were doing before.

“Oh, that’s good,” the girl says, visibly relaxing. Luka assumes that she must be some sort of English or Literature major to get so stressed about _Shakespeare,_ especially on the first day of class.“I’m Marinette, by the way.”

“Luka,” he replies with a nod of his head. She seems… nice. There are certainly worse people to sit next to, he supposes.

“Nice to meet you, Luka!”

They shift into a comfortable silence as the professor finishes setting up the projector. The projector portrays the syllabus, which immediately makes Luka relax. Perfect! He can just sit here for the class period and not have to say a word.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to English 115,” Professor Bustier says. “As you can probably guess, we’re going to be going over the syllabus today. But, to make things more exciting, we’re going to be doing an icebreaker first!”

 _Ugh._ It sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. Luka will state his name, pronouns, major, and a “fun fact” about himself, and then that will be it. Should he go for the _I play guitar_ fun fact, or the _I grew up on a houseboat_ fun fact? He wonders what Marinette will do, and if his gut instinct about her being an English major is correct.

Professor Bustier reaches over to her desk and grabs an upside-down hat, shaking it a few times. “Here’s how this will work. In this hat are some scenes from different Shakespeare plays! You’ll pick one, and then perform with the person sitting next to you! Fun, right?”

 _No, no, no._ The concept of twenty strangers staring at him as he stutters his way through Shakespeare is horrifying. Being on stage with a guitar is different - it’s something he knows and enjoys. And frankly, it’s something he knows he’s good at. But he barely knows how to _read_ Shakespeare, much less speak it aloud. Luka wishes that he could melt into a pile of goo and slide out underneath the door.

“Hey,” the Marinette girl says, looking at him with a smile. It’s a very strong gaze that makes him feel see-through, and he really wishes he was invisible right now. The impact of her eyes on his skin makes him feel anxious. “It’s okay if you’re nervous! I can see that you don’t like presenting. We can practice ahead of time.”

Luka opens his mouth to speak but finds that he cannot, since his throat is blocked by his stress. It irks him greatly that she’d been able to read his distress right off his face. Is he really so transparent? Or does she just think that it’s totally fine to psychoanalyze strangers? When he was younger, his anxiety attacks were loud and all-consuming, with every stranger in the room being able to pinpoint what was going on. But somewhere along the way, he had learned to be silent. Instead of gasping for breath, he shakes and digs his nails into his palms. This isn't about presenting anymore. This is about the test that he'd failed, the security deposit that he will never get back, and the fact that he doesn't have the money to fix his bike. This is about the world that he carries on his shoulders that leaves them constantly sore.

The girl is still _looking at him_ as if waiting for an immediate response, and it makes him clam up more. He wishes she would stop. He wishes _everything_ would stop. The anxiety and the discomfort swirl together in his stomach, sinking it like a rock. Then, they fly up and out of his mouth like word vomit: “Leave me alone. Please. You’re being obnoxious.”

Marinette recoils as though he’d wounded her. Guilt hits Luka like a train wreck, but before he can apologize, she turns around and stares down at her script. The unspoken words burn on his tongue, so he turns around, too.

When they present, Luka cannot bring himself to do more than just read the words straight off the page, even when Marinette reads them with emotion and meaning. His knees shake the whole time, and when the professor tells them they’ve done a good job, it feels like a lie.

When class ends, he is the first one out the door.

* * *

After he tells Juleka the whole story of his no-good, very-bad day, he expects some sort of sympathy. She has always known about his struggles with anxiety, and especially how public speaking can trigger it. She’d been the one to comfort him after he’d ran out of his eighth-grade presentation on sharks, after all.

However, Juleka certainly doesn’t seem sympathetic when she demands, “you said _what_ to _who_?”

“Her name was Marinette, I think,” Luka says, scratching the back of his head. “Why? Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” Juleka replies, with such an upset tone that he wonders if he had just been flippant with some celebrity. “Because if you’re talking about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who I _know_ is taking an English GE this semester, then you’re talking about one of my friends!”

Luka searches his brain for mentions of a Marinette but comes up empty. “Really? How have I never seen her before, then?”

“She’s short, so she’s easy to miss,” Juleka replies with an air of amusement, though it is diminished from her tone when she next speaks. “Jeez, I have to go apologize on your behalf now.”

It clicks in his head, then. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’d never been able to come by the Liberty because she’d always been too busy with extracurriculars and side jobs. Luka remembers with horror that one of those side jobs had been designing for Jagged Stone. The same Jagged Stone that Luka has _dreamed_ of working with since he could even hold a guitar. Hadn’t she promised to make Juleka’s wedding dress, too, for when the time comes?

Oh, no. Not only has Luka potentially blown up a future work connection with his idol, but he might get in the middle of something between her and Juleka, too. He wouldn’t want Juleka to have to scramble at the last minute (once she ever gets the courage to actually _ask_ Rose, anyway) because of him. Not to mention that now, he just feels really embarrassed about what he’d said to her, anyway. It wasn’t her fault that she’d triggered an anxiety response in him by _existing._ “No, I’ll apologize when I see her on Wednesday,” he says. “It was an asshole thing to say.”

“Yeah, it really was,” Juleka replies. “I mean, I understand what got you there, but you should still apologize. Marinette’s a great friend. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”

It makes him feel even worse. “Alright, alright. Jeez. Hey, wanna get pizza?”

Juleka, to her credit, knows when to switch gears. “Duh.”

* * *

Luka really does try to apologize to Marinette on Wednesday. He even gets to class ten minutes early in case that gives him extra time to plead his case, and then spends those ten minutes filled with dread because she’s not there yet. She comes into class the second before it starts, so he doesn’t get a chance. Not only that, but this time, there’s a seat open in the front row, and she takes it with no hesitation. Luka twists his lip and tries not to feel like it’s his fault.

Luckily, she lingers long enough after the end of class for him to approach her after most of the students have left. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “Look, I just wanted to-”

“Apologize?” she guesses, raising an eyebrow at him. Luka can feel himself shrinking into his sneakers. “Listen, maybe you were just having a bad day. But I like myself too much to let people walk all over me.” Her smile is perfectly rehearsed and lovely, but there is something in her eyes that makes him feel like he has entered dangerous waters. She must have experience putting people in their place. It’s a life skill that Luka wishes he knew how to do gracefully. He usually just holds it all inside until he tells random classmates that they’re being obnoxious. Jeez, why did he do that?

“I understand,” he says through gritted teeth. Something about the way that she can guess half the things that he is about to say makes him horrifically uncomfortable.

“So please just don’t try,” Marinette says, and when she heads for the door, he doesn’t attempt to stop her.

Luka stands there for a moment after she goes, trying to collect his thoughts. Had him asking her to leave him alone really been that harsh? Sure, it had been rude, and he definitely _was_ in the wrong to a certain extent, but it’s not like he had told her to go to hell or anything.

Well, fine. If she is willing to talk to him like that after _one_ mistake, then he doesn’t like her, either. If she can hold onto a grudge for so long, then so can he!

It definitely doesn’t have to do with the fact that he is _mortified._ Nope. Not at all.

* * *

from: juleka  
well? did you resolve things w/ marinette?

to: juleka  
i tried but she is still very mad  
whatever i won’t bother anymore

from: juleka  
to be fair you literally called her obnoxious

to: juleka  
ughhhh i didn’t mean it like that  
i feel bad about it but i mean it’s not like she’s hearing me out

from: juleka  
it sounds harsh but honestly the best thing you can do is probably just leave her alone

to: juleka  
yeah good point

from: juleka  
anyways...  
[Attachment: 1 Image]  
what do you think? i’m pretty sure rose will love it.

to: juleka  
what the hell, jules?  
call me right this second I DIDNT EVEN KNOW YOU WERE RING SHOPPING

* * *

So, for the next two weeks, Luka does just what Juleka had suggested and leaves Marinette alone. He sits in the back row, does the bare minimum for his assignments, and only winces a little bit whenever Marinette answers a question or presents in class. He has been fortunate enough to avoid running into her elsewhere on campus so far, though he certainly feels as though it’s just a matter of time. For the most part, however, he’s able to file thoughts of his encounter with Marinette in the back of his brain with the rest of his cringe worthy memories.

When Juleka invites him to a Valentine’s Day party at her and Rose’s townhouse, he doesn’t even _consider_ the concept of Marinette being there. He mainly just hopes that Ivan will be there, because even though he’s friendly with the rest of them, Ivan is the only one that he talks to about real stuff. The girls are all friends with Juleka far more than they’re friends with him, so it’s hard to take the mask off.

Rose greets him at the door, and it is very immediately obvious that she is the one who has done all of the decorating. Pink streamers and heart-shaped decorations adorn the living room, and he can only imagine that it extends throughout the entire house. “Hi Luka,” she says with a smile. Rose is nice to everybody, but it’s still very easy to feel special in her presence. “Juleka’s in the bathroom but she should be out any minute! Ivan’s around here somewhere, too.”

It clicks for him, then. Rose is _feral_ about Valentine’s Day. Of course Juleka is planning on proposing now, and apparently having a breakdown in the bathroom over it. He makes a mental note to go find her once he’s been here long enough to be subtle about it. 

So, first, he finds Ivan, who is nursing an iced tea in the corner. “Hey, man,” Luka says. “How have you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good,” Ivan says. They’ve had a few music theory classes together over the past few semesters, but Luka hasn’t seen him at all since the last term ended. “Hey, it’s far in advance, but I’ve got a gig booked at the Grande in late May. I was gonna do it with my buddy Nathaniel, but he’s got some stuff going on with his family. We should do it together, yeah?”

“Oh, that’s awesome,” Luka replies, clapping Ivan on the shoulder. The Grande is a small, quiet bar that has cheap jalapeno poppers. On every other Saturday, they have “college student” nights where anyone over eighteen can come and only non-alcoholic beverages are served. Luka has only gone there for gigs, not really being one to linger at bars for long. It’s a decent enough place. “I’d love to. Thank you for the invite. It’ll be nice to think about something other than classes for a while.”

“Mylène told me that you called Marinette obnoxious,” Ivan says, as if it’s _funny._ How did Mylène even find out about that, anyway? Word sure travels fast when your sister has a big mouth, he supposes. “I bet you regretted that real quick.”

“Of course I did,” Luka says, frustrated but not with Ivan. He’s mainly mortified that he cannot escape this. “I was having an anxiety attack. Didn’t mean to snap at her. I kinda feel bad, but she won’t let me apologize.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Ivan says, voice full of more sympathy than Luka has gotten about the situation so far. “She really won’t hear you out?”

“Yeah, I mean, can’t say I blame her, I guess,” he says in response. “Oh well. It doesn’t bother me.”

Ivan smiles again, as if he knows something that nobody else does. “Sure it doesn’t.”

Luka doesn’t know what to say to that, because, well, _it doesn’t._ He’s letting bygones be bygones, forgiving himself for his past mistakes, etcetera. If Marinette hates him, who cares? It’s an uncomfortable comment from Ivan that he’s not sure he wants to deal with, so he’ll take his leave. “I better go find Juleka,” he says. “We’ll talk later, yeah?”

Ivan responds with a _sure thing, dude,_ and Luka heads on down the hall. Unfortunately, he hasn’t prepared what he wants to say to Juleka at all. Is it insensitive to her anxiety to tell her matter-of-factly that Rose will say yes? Will he be fueling the fire if he doesn’t?

“Oh, you’re here,” Marinette says, voice laced with surprise. She is clutching a purse to her chest. Jeez, it’s not like he’s going to steal it. “I didn’t realize that you were capable of going to parties.”

Luka bites down the first half-nonsensical comeback that he can think of, knowing that it would just embarrass him even more. He doesn’t want to be mean to Marinette, if not just for Juleka’s sake. It’s not that he cares about how she feels about him. He just doesn’t want his sister to argue with him later. That’s all. “I am,” he says. “Juleka’s not in there?”

“No,” Marinette says, as short as her stature. Juleka had been right about that. Marinette is short, but somehow she’s still terrifying. “She was heading to the kitchen. Said she was gonna help get some snacks out.”

“Oh.” This conversation is making Luka feel itchy. He hopes that he doesn’t have pit stains. What if she sees his pit stains? Why does he care? “I’ll find her there, then.”

“Great,” is her reply. He expects her to move past him and down the hall, but for some reason, she lingers. “Well. I guess it’s good to know that you do more than glower in the back of the class.”

“Turns out, even _I_ am a human being,” Luka replies. When she continues to stay, he says, “and I’m a human being that needs to pee. Excuse me.”

“Oh,” Marinette says lamely, as if she’d never realized that he was a normal person, and gets out of his way. Her cheeks are colored red.

Luka closes the door behind him, and immediately covers his face with his hands. What just happened? He doesn’t even need to pee since he’d just been looking for Juleka. Why’d he say that?

* * *

Juleka isn’t really “helping get snacks out” as much as she is stress eating near the kitchen counter. She’s usually pretty hard to read, but her anxiety is laid bare on her face. It’s funny - their mom is so sure of everything, but here they are, her two kids who know _nothing._ “Hey, Jules,” Luka says. He still hasn’t prepared anything to say. “This is… this is happening, huh?”

“Yeah,” Juleka replies. Her face is somehow even paler than usual. “I was gonna keep it a surprise from everyone about the _when_ and the _where._ But I’m freaking out.”

“Why?” Luka asks. “You’ve been together for six years. When she signed you up for _Brilliant Earth_ email advertisements last Christmas, that wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“I know,” Juleka says. She pops another pink cookie into her mouth. He isn’t exactly stress-free, either, so he grabs one too. “What if she says no?”

Luka almost laughs, but holds it back. She’d probably become very angry with him, and justifiably so. “She won’t. I would bet my guitar on it.”

“But what if she _does_?”

Luka tries to think of a reality where Rose says no. It’s difficult, but he manages to come up with something to say regardless. “It doesn’t mean your relationship has to end just because she’s not ready for that step yet. If she says no, you ask her if it’s a _no for now_ or a _no forever._ And if it _is_ a ‘no forever’… well. Then it sucks for a while. But you’ll get through it.”

“I don’t think it would be a _no forever,_ ” Juleka says. “I just… I don’t know. We’re both so young. She’s barely twenty.”

“I’m not gonna tell you to do it if you’re not ready,” he replies. Juleka’s right, after all. They’re both young. If someone had asked _Luka_ to marry them when he was twenty, he would have laughed in their face and blocked them on social media. “You can just have a fun night and she doesn’t have to know.”

“I don’t like that idea,” Juleka says, shaking her head. “I want to do it.”

“Okay,” Luka says. At least she’s not having cold feet about the relationship as a whole. Rose is really good for Juleka and always has been. They’re both entirely different people than they were when they first started dating at fourteen, but they’ve grown together instead of apart. “Well. There’s nothing wrong with a long engagement. In fact, it might be best, as long as you’re on the same page.”

“I think we are,” is her reply. She grabs another cookie. Luka wonders if he should stop her before she pukes baby pink all over the kitchen. From the living room, the song shifts into something new, which makes Juleka perk up. “Okay. Well. The next song is the one that I’m gonna propose to her with. Let’s go to the living room and act cool for a few minutes first?”

“Oh yeah,” Luka says. “We’ll act so cool that no one will suspect anything.”

Juleka laughs, since they both know that won’t happen at all. They suck at lying.

* * *

When Juleka gets down on one knee, Rose drops to the floor and wraps her in a hug. It’s hard to hear anything over the sound of “yes, yes, yes!” Later, he’ll tell Juleka that he _totally_ called it, and that she was silly for ever thinking that anything else would happen, but for now, it’s just nice to see his sister happy. She deserves it, after all.

He glances behind Juleka and Rose to see Marinette looking at him. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are red, but he only gets to see the expression on her face for a moment before she turns away. For some reason, it makes him feel antsy - as though she’d caught him in a vulnerable position.

Whatever. There are more important things to think about right now. With that in mind, Luka goes to help his sister off the floor. Heaven knows that Rose is too small to do so.

* * *

During the first week of April, _Assign Partners for Final Project_ is on the whiteboard when Luka walks into Bustier’s classroom. He has a bad taste in his mouth before he even sits down.

Bustier explains the project, and it seems straightforward enough. Each group will draw a scene from a hat, and then they will both perform that scene for the class and write a five-seven page analysis on it. Luka has certainly had worse assignments. Plus, come on. Shakespeare is _old._ He’s sure most of this analysis is on the internet anyway.

Then, Bustier adds the kicker. “To make things fair, all partners will be assigned alphabetically by last name. Once your partner is announced, go sit next to them, and we’ll draw from the hat shortly after!”

Uh-oh. Luka may not be a genius, but he certainly knows where this is going.

“Cory Arellano and Katelyn Atkinson, Edith Barber and Martha Cameron, Luka Couffaine and Marinette Dupain-Cheng-”

 _Uh-oh._ Marinette glances at him from her seat in the front row. He offers her a tight-lipped smile, one that she returns. She does not look pleased. Luka isn’t, either. Since he has an empty seat next to him and she doesn’t, she starts packing up her stuff and heads over to him. She doesn’t greet him, so he doesn’t greet her either. The silence is painful.

When Bustier comes around with the hat, Luka gestures to let her draw from it. He definitely doesn’t need to give her another reason to hate him, in case he draws something that she doesn’t like.

He regrets that, though, when she draws _Much Ado About Nothing,_ Act 4, Scene 1. Luka had barely paid attention to that entire play - the misogyny had been hard to handle. He’d watched _Nothing Much to Do_ instead of the film adaptation that he was supposed to watch, so he has no clue what the scene they’d picked is about.

At the end of class, the silence is finally broken. “I really want an A in this class,” Marinette tells him, absolutely no-nonsense. It’s similar to the way that she had spoken to him when he had tried to apologize. He certainly feels just as tense. “So… I know that you don’t like presenting. But I really need you to take this seriously, okay?”

“I will,” Luka says, offended by the implication that he wouldn’t. Sure, he half-heartedly coasts through assignments when he’s the only one who takes the fall, but he wouldn’t do that during a partner project. Unable to resist, he adds, “I’m not a total asshole, you know.”

Marinette frowns, looking down and away from him. For some reason, Luka has the urge to apologize again. Words are so hard sometimes. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. She sounds _embarrassed._

“You would have been justified if you did,” he admits. She looks up at him sharply, as if she hadn’t expected him to say that. He fixes her an awkward smile, but it’s less tense than it had been before. They’ll both fail if they don’t at least try to get along. He never wanted to antagonize her anyway. “I’ll try my best, and I’ll listen to whatever critique you might have. I’m the most free on Tuesday or Thursday evenings for studying and rehearsing. Does that work for you?”

“Thursdays work,” she says. Something in her demeanor seems softer now. He’s taking his victories where he can. “5pm? I can reserve a study room in the library?”

“Sounds good to me,” he says. He’s going to have to actually read this play, isn’t he?

* * *

from: juleka  
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA ARE YOU REALLY WORKING WITH MARINETTE ON YOUR FINAL

to: juleka  
yes why is that funny

from: juleka  
can’t run from your problems this time!!!  
if you aren’t buddies with her by the end of the sem i will be SHOOOCKED

to: juleka  
i don’t think we’ll be friends at all to be honest.  
she basically accused me of not taking it seriously

from: juleka  
awww look at you, caring about what marinette thinks of you <3  
how cute!

to: juleka  
shut up  
it’s not like that

from: juleka  
whatever you’ll figure it out on your own  
pro-tip: marinette drinks coffee no matter what time it is. iced. bring some to your study group

to: juleka  
uh thanks i guess?

* * *

Luka navigates to the study room that Marinette had reserved, balancing his iced coffees in both his hands and hoping not to spill either of them. That certainly would put a damper in his plan of a peace offering.

The study room has a short but wide window, so he can see her sitting at the table inside. She is hunched over a notebook, quickly scrawling _something._ Though he can barely see her face well from the position she’s in, he can see that her nose is scrunched up tight.

Right there on the fourth floor of the library, Luka comes to the weird realization that Marinette is pretty. It’s not that he had thought anything bad about her appearance before, nor would he have treated her any differently if he had, but the concept had simply never occurred to him until now. He supposes it doesn’t matter.

Marinette looks up from her notebook and, noticing his hands are full, bounces up to open the door. Luka shakes his head, as if to remove the irrelevant thoughts, and trudges through the threshold.

“I brought gifts,” he says, raising the cups. “One is caramel, one is hazelnut. You can choose whichever one you like more.” He hesitates, but then decides to say, “Also, please don’t take this as a bribe for your forgiveness or anything. I just thought you might want some.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Marinette says, though she looks a little bit like she has a hand in the cookie jar. “Thanks for the coffee. I like caramel better. I have a sweet tooth.”

 _Figures,_ Luka thinks, though he cannot decide why the concept of her liking sweet treats makes so much sense. It must be the fact that Juleka had mentioned something about a family bakery. What else could it be? He puts the coffee next to her on the table, before moving to his own seat.

“I think we should be fine just working on the analysis today,” Marinette tells him. He wonders if he should be upset that she is entering a leadership role, but he simply can’t bring it in himself to care. He’d be a bad leader for a Shakespeare project anyway. If it was music theory, however… “We have over a month to figure out the performance aspect.”

Luka shrugs in acceptance, opening his laptop. “I’ll be more helpful for the analysis, anyway,” he says. “How are we splitting this up? Do we want to focus on different characters, different themes, or something else?”

“I think the most impactful way to organize the paper is to sort by theme,” Marinette says. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“Deception, politics, judgment, shame?” Luka lists the first few concepts that come to mind. Honestly, he’d read the play in such a short setting that he forgets what is part of their scene and what is part of other aspects of the play. Otherwise, he’d be more specific. “Any of those sound good?”

Marinette’s eyebrows raise. “Those all sound good, actually.”

“Didn’t realize I actually read the play, did you?” Luka asks, feeling more smug than offended. She doesn’t have to know that he’d only finished it last night.

“It’s not that,” she says. Her cheeks and ears are red. Maybe she’s cold? Luka could bring a sweatshirt for her next time. “I’m just impressed.”

Something in his brain turns off. He can’t tell if that statement makes him feel good or bad. Maybe he just feels weird. “Oh,” he says. “Cool.”

* * *

“Hey, look,” Luka says the next time that they meet. “I really am sorry for what I said to you on the first day of class.” Their first study session had been a lot better than he had expected, but it had still been tense. He just wants to clear the air.

Marinette sips her iced coffee and waves him off. This time, she had brought the coffees, and then refused to let him pay her back. “Yeah, I know. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I do,” he insists. He’s mildly upset that she thinks it’s something that can just be swept under the rug. She deserves better than unspoken apologies. “You were right. I was really nervous. But that doesn’t excuse the way that I spoke to you. I freaked out and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again.” He almost mentions the fact that he was edging on a full-blown anxiety attack, but decides against it. He doesn’t want her to think that he isn’t taking full accountability for his actions.

“You’re forgiven,” she replies, as if it’s not even a question. Does she really not hold a grudge against him anymore? “I understand why you felt like I was trying to psychoanalyze you or something. You know, sometimes I really get into my own head, too… and I don’t really like when people belittle that. I didn’t mean to do that to you, so I’m sorry, too.”

“You didn’t,” Luka says, surprised. He’d honestly almost forgotten about what she’d said to cause his word vomit in the first place. The majority of his angst towards her has been for not letting him apologize, not for what she had said in the beginning. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Marinette huffs, but she’s smiling. It’s genuine and soft, too, not those strained ones that she used to give him. “Thanks for the sentiment, but you’ve still gotta accept my apology, you jerk.”

“I forgive you,” he says, if only because she needs to hear it. “I’d really like for us to be friends, Marinette. Real friends.”

She lights up like a disco ball. She certainly shines like one, too. “Of course. That sounds wonderful!”

* * *

After that, Luka really starts to look forward to his weekly study sessions with Marinette. They begin to alternate who brings the iced coffee each week. She is so much more patient than he had first thought. She assures him that it’s okay when he forgets his lines during their rehearsals, laughs at his jokes, and is genuinely just fun to be around. It turns out that she isn’t an English major like he had previously guessed, but a fashion design major.

Juleka calls him on Saturday morning while he’s making breakfast. “I’m having a few friends over in a few hours,” she says in lieu of a greeting. “You should come.”

Luka places the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so that he can crack an egg into the hole of his toast. “Since when do you host parties? You hate parties.”

“Turns out when you have friends that you actually like, they’re pretty fun,” Juleka says. That’s fair. She really has become more social ever since she met her current group of friends. “Please?”

“When?” He does have some physics homework to submit before midnight, but if she’s having friends over late enough, he might be able to get it done beforehand.

“Two,” is her reply. Luka looks at the clock which reads _10:32_ , and then at his physics homework on the desk. That should be enough time. “We’re watching Harry Potter. We have cupcakes with all the House colors.”

Luka hesitates. He _did_ have a really big Harry Potter phase, back in the day. Maybe if he pretends that somebody _else_ wrote the book series, he’ll have a fun time. Plus, _cupcakes._ “I do like cupcakes,” he says.

“Marinette will be there. She’s the one who made them, after all,” Juleka says, as if that should seal the deal.

Luka hesitates. He and Marinette are friends now, but they’ve never hung out at a group setting before. Sure, there had been the Valentine’s Day party, but that encounter had been downright _weird._ They had definitely not been friends then. Will she still talk to him when she’s around her better friends?

Whatever. It can’t hurt. Worst case, Luka steals all the Slytherin cupcakes and goes to practice for his gig with Ivan in a few weeks. “Sounds good to me,” he says.

* * *

Luka ends up getting there closer to 2:30, so when he walks through the door, everybody is already in the living room. Juleka and Rose are curled up on one side of the couch, with Marinette on the other side of them. Mylène and Ivan are sitting on the floor next to it, surrounded by pillows and blankets. A chorus of _hello_ s greets him as he kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket up on the hooks.

“Oh look, you came,” Juleka says, smiling though her tone is deadpan. “I was half-expecting you to no-show.”

“I’d at least have the decency to let you know,” Luka points out. He might not like confrontation, but he at least knows that ghosting is worse. “Anyways, you said that Marinette made cupcakes. I like cupcakes.”

Marinette waves at him from the couch. Feeling a little awkward, he waves back. “I did make cupcakes,” she says. “They’re in the kitchen. I made everyone wait until you got here, because Juleka said that cupcakes are your favorite.”

“Oh,” Luka says, surprised. He’d expected to snag the leftovers and nothing more. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Marinette’s like that,” Mylène says. “Everyone needs a Marinette in their lives.”

Luka is beginning to think she’s right. “By the way,” he says, addressing everyone in the room now. “Ivan and I have a gig after finals. You should all come.”

“Oh, right,” Ivan says. “I’d forgotten to mention it to anyone but Mylène. It’s at the Grande on that Saturday. Plus ones are fine, too.” Luka almost laughs, because he’s saying that to a newly engaged couple and his chronically single self. He supposes that Marinette could bring somebody, but he doesn’t know who it would be. No one had ever mentioned a love interest of hers.

“Can I bring my friend Alya?” Marinette asks, perking up. “Her boyfriend’s a DJ, so he might want to come too!”

The conversation having moved to being more than just Luka, he moves to sit down on the floor. However, before he can get his butt to the ground, Marinette shoots out of her seat. “You can sit on the couch,” she says. “I’m getting up to get the cupcakes anyway.”

Luka frowns. He doesn’t want _Marinette_ to sit on the floor. Sure, Ivan and Mylène look super comfy, but still. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she confirms. Does everyone let her be selfless all the time? Someone’s gotta tell this girl she can be selfish every now and then.

“Oh my God, there’s literally enough room for two people,” Juleka interrupts. Rose elbows her, but she keeps talking. “Sit next to each other. I swear that neither of you will die.”

Marinette goes bright red. “That’s true! I’m going to go get the cupcakes now!”

Luka gives Juleka a _look,_ but won’t start an argument in front of all her friends. He sits down on the couch, going thigh-to-thigh with Juleka so that Marinette will have plenty of room when she returns. He hopes that Marinette isn’t too uncomfortable with him being here. 

“She does not hate you,” Juleka whispers. Ugh. One of the most annoying things about his sister is that she knows him so well. “It’s the opposite, actually.”

“I know that,” Luka says back, equally quiet. “She seemed really happy when I said I wanted to be friends.”

Juleka rolls her eyes, as if he’s misinterpreted her. What other way is there to interpret her, though? “Okay,” she says, as if deciding that now is not the time. It won’t take too long for Marinette to pick up a box of cupcakes, after all.

As if on cue, Marinette comes back with a few boxes stacked high in her arms. “I went a little overboard,” she says. She lays the boxes down on the coffee table and opens them. Woah. She really went all out, even though this is a rather small gathering. Each and every one is piped beautifully. Luka cannot _wait_ to eat these. “A dozen for each House. We can probably get through forty-eight cupcakes, right? If not, well… you guys can keep the leftovers!”

“It will be our pleasure to try,” Juleka says. Luka tries not to nod too enthusiastically.

Marinette sits down next to him, her knee gently resting against his. She smells like sugar. Had she baked these this morning? Why is she the nicest human alive? To think that he had ever declared dislike for her.

Luka reaches for the cupcakes the moment that it is socially appropriate to do so. The Slytherin ones look like they might be mint chocolate, so he beelines for those first. “These look super good,” he tells her as he peels off the wrapper. “How long did this take you?”

“Not too long,” she says, forever humble. “Just a few hours! But I’ve been baking for as long as I’ve been alive, honestly.”

He takes a bite of the cupcake. As he’d expected, the cupcake itself is a dark chocolate, and the green filling tastes of mint. The cake itself is baked well without being too dry or dense. The filling is silky and sweet, without the mint flavor being too overpowering. Luka could quite literally write a song about this cake.

Luka almost says that it’s the best cupcake that he’s ever had, and he wouldn’t have been exaggerating, but then he decides that it’s too intense. “These are wonderful,” he says instead. “Thank you for making them for us, Marinette.”

Marinette looks at him in a funny sort of way. He wonders if it’s a good or bad sort of funny. “You’re welcome,” she says, soft. And then: “You have green food dye staining your teeth.”

Well, that’s embarrassing. He sticks out his tongue. “Is my tongue green, too?”

She giggles with her hand over her mouth. “Yes,” she says. He likes making his friends laugh. “Maybe if you eat some of the Gryffindor ones, the red will cancel it out.”

“I don’t know if that’s how food dye works,” Luka says to the baker’s daughter who definitely knows how food dye works. “I’m not going to miss the opportunity to eat another cupcake, though.”

“You know what? Me too,” she says. They grab one together.

(The Gryffindor cupcakes stain Marinette’s lips red. Luka cannot figure out why he keeps looking at them.)

* * *

Finals week comes faster than he hopes for. During the last day of Shakespeare class, Luka finds himself reciting his lines in his head as he waits for their turn to present. She seems similarly anxious as she bounces her knee and taps her pen against the desk. It’s been almost six weeks of preparation, after all. He might puke. Maybe he can do it sneakily before his turn? 

No. No puking allowed. He is going to do this, and he is going to do it well. It’s not as easy or fun as playing guitar on stage, but the premise is the same. He’s performing for an audience, and putting a part of himself into their hands. For some reason, the rough-looking strangers at bars are less intimidating than the group of his classmates who stare blankly.

Luka’s knees shake through his starting lines, but Marinette meets his lines with a smile and quick response. She has always put such effort and personality into her performances this semester, and it’s easy to be taken in by. He supposes that he could learn a thing or two from her.

Once it becomes clear that Luka has not forgotten any of his lines, he finds himself getting into a rhythm. He and Marinette have practiced the words so many times that he finds himself not thinking about it. Instead, he speaks to Marinette the way he normally would, and finds that it is one of the easiest times he’s had presenting.

“Is there any way to show such friendship?” Luka asks, allowing himself to feel just a bit like Benedick. Benedick is an overly cocky character, which is a personality trait Luka is usually proud to say he does not exude. But he can certainly borrow some of it for the duration of this performance.

“A very even way, but no such friend,” she responds. She’s biting her lip. He wonders how much of that is Beatrice and how much of that is organically Marinette.

“May a man do it?” His voice is softer than he had wanted it to be, but hopefully still audible enough to the audience.

“It is a man’s office, but not yours,” is her reply. Luka swallows and it sounds like the loudest noise in the room. The anxiety that he has been able to ignore for the duration of the presentation gnaws at his tongue. The words are coming less naturally to him now - he spends Marinette’s line scrambling to remember his own.

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” Luka says. The lines between Benedick and Luka start to blur. The nausea that he had been fighting back earlier seems to be back with a vengeance now. He forges on regardless. “Is not that strange?” The realization feels heavy in his stomach and swells his tongue to something unusable. Good thing Beatrice has a speech to launch into.

He felt a little lightheaded. For as long as he’s known her, he’s been struggling to get his mind off of Marinette. At first, it was the embarrassment, then it was the awkward tension he felt at the Valentine’s Day party. But maybe it was never distaste or discomfort that made her so hard to forget. He doesn’t want to stop thinking about her, just the opposite. He wants to get to know her, to learn what makes her happy and sad and scared, to learn how she balances it all with her rigorous career ventures. He wants to make her smile because of him more often, the way she had so brightly and widely when she had agreed to be friends. Jeez, he wants to be _more_ than friends. He wants to write her a song, and then another one, and then another one.

Marinette tilts her head at him, and he realizes that he has missed his cue. She doesn’t look at him with impatience or stress, but with patience. The expression on her face is so soft that Luka’s fingers itch to write on sheet music. He can hear the notes and letters flow through his brain perfectly, but he’s almost sure he’ll forget it by the time the presentation is over. He hasn’t processed a single word of her speech. Luckily, his line comes to him in time: “Be my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.” Hopefully it’s a smooth recovery from his blunder.

He manages to get back into his groove by the end of the presentation, but he still feels shaky by the time it ends. The class claps obediently, as they have with the other presentations, and Luka beelines for his seat. Marinette uses less haste, but grins widely at him when she passes him by. Well, at least she doesn’t seem upset with him for missing that cue. He doesn’t know if he could take that, not when he wants to be the Benedick to her Beatrice. (Minus the misogyny.)

“Well done, Luka and Marinette,” Bustier compliments, writing down notes on her grading rubric. Luka tries not to make himself sick wondering what she’s writing. “I can tell how much work you put into this!”

“Thank you, Professor Bustier!” Marinette chirps right back, seeming genuinely pleased. It’s true, after all. Luka doesn’t think he’s ever worked so hard for a non-music class, so he lets himself take the praise.

* * *

to: juleka  
help i like marinette romantically

from: juleka  
called it  
what’s the issue? she likes you too

to: juleka  
not like that though. she’s barely just agreed to be my friend

from: juleka  
yes like that.  
ask her out. do it at your gig this weekend. if you don’t, i can tell her to ask you out first.

to: juleka  
NO???? why would you do that? please don’t.

from: juleka  
i have been engaged for three whole months and i have had to spend all of it watching you swoon over her and not even REALIZE IT  
YOU KNOW HOW BAD I WANTED TO SHAKE YOU AND SAY  
THE REASON YOU GET SO TENSE WHEN SHE TALKS TO YOU IS NOT BECAUSE YOU DONT LIKE HER!!!!  
you’re as bad as me pre-lesbian awakening in 6th grade!!!

to: juleka  
has it really been three months?  
i’m pointedly ignoring the rest of what you’ve said because i feel mildly attacked.

from: juleka  
yes. i know right?  
to sum it up: ask marinette out. just trust me. i’m a bad friend to her if i say anything more than that.

to: juleka  
is she still planning on coming to my gig this weekend? i can ask her then.  
i need extra extra assurance from you that this won’t blow up in my face.

from: juleka  
1\. ask her yourself  
2\. yes she is. i confirmed w/ her a few days ago that she could still come  
3\. it won’t blow up. but if it does, you’re a big boy. you can handle rejection.

to: juleka  
i know i can. just not looking forward to it.

* * *

As Luka and Ivan set up the stage at the Grande on Saturday night, he can’t help but look for Marinette. Everyone else is sitting at one of the larger tables near the back, even the two friends that Marinette had invited. But she is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sure she’ll come,” Ivan says quietly. Had he been briefed by Juleka or Mylène, or had he just been able to read Luka like a book? He sure is tired of people doing that. “Why would she invite Alya and Nino and then not come?”

“I don’t know,” Luka says. Maybe she’s just running late, or one of her endless career ventures took longer than expected. Maybe she’s trying to get an Uber but they’re all too far away.

Or maybe she just decided not to come without saying a damn thing to him. That could have happened, too. It’s not like she could have known that he was planning on asking her out after his performance.

Eventually, the clock turns six, and they can’t just wait around for a girl who might not even show. He looks at Juleka, who looks like she wants to tell him something, but she’s too far away for him to read her facial expression. Luka looks at Ivan and shrugs, receiving another one in return. 

Ivan launches into his introduction, thanking the Grande for letting them perform and thanking everybody else for stopping by. Luka stays quiet, if not only because Ivan booked this gig in the first place and he doesn’t want to steal his thunder.

He has a hard time connecting to the music for the first song, but by the end of the second one, Luka is fully in his groove. Being on stage gives him an adrenaline rush that he has never been able to replicate. No matter how many people are in the crowd watching, it only takes a few minutes of playing music for them all to melt away into the atmosphere. It’s just him, his guitar, and the bright lights shining down on him. Whether the audience knows it or not, the notes and chords that pour out of his guitar are _Luka_ in simplification. His worries for what happens after college, his feelings for Marinette, and his devotion to his musical career all flood out of the guitar, kissing the stage and the ceiling and everyone in the room.

Halfway through the show when there is a lull between songs, Ivan leans over real close to him. “Look who showed up,” he says.

Luka’s eyes immediately shoot towards the table that his friends are sitting at. There she is. Marinette is sitting at the table, talking to her friend Alya. She’s dressed up just a bit too nicely for this bar, but it doesn’t look like it’s bothering her. She smiles behind berry-red lips, and her eyes glance over to the stage. When she sees that Luka is looking at her, her smile grows wider, and she waves at him. He waves back. 

“I’m glad she came,” he says to Ivan. To give himself some accountability, he adds: “I’m gonna ask her out after.”

“Good,” Ivan says. He smiles as though he’s known that Luka would do it. Maybe this isn’t something that he’d been told by Mylène or Juleka - maybe he’d known it ever since that Valentine’s Day party. It certainly would not be surprising. Ivan has always been very perceptive of others. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

The second half of their setlist comes even easier than the first. Luka had not realized how much Marinette’s absence had affected him until she had shown up. He wants her to see a part of himself that is more than his half-assed attempts at Shakespeare. Even when he _had_ begun to try, he had still been thoroughly out of his element. He’s in his element now, and he wants her to know that.

She must, because after the last song plays and Luka and Ivan thank the audience one last time, she makes her way through the crowd and towards the stage. Ivan gives him a pat on the back, heading off to the table with the rest of their friends. It’s as if he’s signaling to Luka that this is his chance.

He’s certainly not going to waste it.

“Hi,” he says to Marinette. In the past, their more awkward encounters were due to not getting along. Now, he still feels some of that tension, but for an entirely different reason. “I’m so glad that you made it.”

“Sorry that I was so late,” she says. She does genuinely look guilty, so he wonders what occurred. Maybe it’s not his business, though, so he doesn’t ask. “I really wanted to be here on time.”

“Life gets in the way,” he acknowledges. Heaven knows that he’s been late to his share of social events. “No worries. Did you have fun?”

“I did! You’re good at this whole thing,” Marinette says, gesturing behind him to the stage. “I - I mean, not that I didn’t think you would be! I just… you know. I really enjoyed the show.”

“Thank you,” Luka replies, trying not to let the relief show on his face. He had wanted her to enjoy his music so badly, though he realizes now that he’d never asked what type of music she likes. “It’s so much easier than performing Shakespeare.”

She laughs. It’s beautiful. _She’s_ so beautiful. Luka feels like his heart is too big for his chest. “It certainly doesn’t feel that way to me,” she replies. “This crowd is, like, ten times the size of that classroom.”

“It’s different,” he says. He wishes that he could explain it. His legs still shake on stage sometimes, but it’s the adrenaline, not the anxiety. “It’s like - like the world is mine, when I’m up there. I feel like I express myself more than I can with any words.”

She nods. “I feel that way too, sometimes.” Of course she does. He suspects that visual art is quite similar to his music.

Fuck it. It’s now or never. “We should go get dinner sometime,” Luka says, bold from the music and the crowd and the energy that thrums through his veins. If she says no, it’s okay. He just needs to know for sure either way. “You and me.”

Marinette looks at him the way she always does. How has he never noticed this before? “I’d love to,” she says, and he knows that she means it.

* * *

(If Luka smiles the whole way home, well, that’s his secret to keep.)

**Author's Note:**

> Luka: [9,000 word long crisis about Marinette]  
> Juleka and Rose in the background: [Absolutely U-Hauling it]


End file.
